


the end

by Sunset Days (DreamyRequiem)



Category: Danny Phantom, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Gen, On Hiatus, headcanons treated as fact, i always have that tag so people don't eat me alive, yaaay more AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamyRequiem/pseuds/Sunset%20Days
Summary: "A job?" Danny stared uncertainly at the duo in front of him: Mercenaries, who probably fought everyday. "I don't know..."The woman, Sam, raised her hands. "You wouldn't have to do any fighting--Just pull your weight in jobs for you. Like the dancing gig you did here. Sound good?" Tucker, the other half of the duo, nodded along sagely, as if he had any idea what was going on. For some reason, Danny think he actually didn't."...Alright," he said, "I'll join up for now. It's not like I have any other offers."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is prolly the first thing i've done in like, 6 months, that's been beta`d. (by my friend laura, dolfabre here on ao3)

Huh.

The sky was a pretty blue, he mused. He felt like he hadn't seen the sky proper like this in a while. That was odd--Why would that be? It's not like he hadn't seen the sky recently.

...Right?

Frowning, he sat up, finally realizing that he was lying down in a patch of grass. There were gouges in earth, like long claws had dug through it. Some of the trees smoked, fire licking the upper branches. Oh, and there were several dead bodies around him.

He panicked, scrambling to his feet and away from the nearest body. What--Where did these people come from? How the hell did they died? People don't just drop dead like this.

Or...no, they hadn't just dropped dead. The armor they wore was clawed and mangled, as if some beast had torn through the armor like paper. He shuddered and forced himself to his feet, stumbling slightly.

Whatever had done this, he didn't want to meet it. Feeling wobbly, he stumbled away from the bodies and the smoking trees, intent on making his way to some place safe. His heart thumped hard in his chest as he stumbled over roots and abandoned weapons and dried undergrowth.

Where was he anyway? This forest didn't look familiar at all, as if he'd stumbled through a portal into another world. Swallowing the bile in his throat he continued on through the forest, thinking hard.

It was just that he had no idea where he was: He also had no idea who he was besides the name 'Danny'. He couldn't even be sure Danny was his name--it was just the first name that floated to the fore front when he thought about himself.

...Well, there wasn't anyone else to claim that name. It'd be fine if he used it for now, right? Besides he liked it. It...fit in a weird way.

Danny nodded to himself as he slipped through the trees. Yeah, he'd use that name. No one to claim it, it fit, and...well, it was the only the name he could think of. If he found the actually person named Danny--the person who would know who HE was, then he'd stop. But until then?

He doubted they'd care.

Through the trees he found a path--well worn and wide. He grimaced as his bare feet hit the path. They were already fairly torn up, blood dripping from small cuts caused by the forest he'd stumbled through.

Looking down at his feet Danny sighed. He definitely needed to bandage them--but he didn't have anything to do the bandaging with. Danny needed to get to a town, to a doctor, before his injuries got worse than they already were. Which meant more walking.

Eh, that was fine. He could handle that much at least.

So he walked, walked as the sun in the sky slowly crossed the sky and the sounds of wild animals began to echo from the forest surrounding the path on either side. If there were animals making noise then surely whatever had destroyed that part of the forest he had been in was long gone.

Danny let out a sigh of relief because, well, he still didn't want to meet whatever had caused that damage. It'd probably kill him like it had those others in the forest.

_**Thruuuum-uuum-um! Thruum....** _

He froze, his heart thudding in his head as wooden wheels thundered towards them. The closer they got the slower the thunder of wheels got. It was as if they were slowing down at the sight of him. It did mean one thing, however, which is that there was most definitely a town somewhere along this road.

(Hopefully.)

Turning his head, Danny looked to the thundering wagons as one slowed to a stop next to him. The other four with the stopped wagon slowed to a stop ahead of them and Danny blinked in bafflement. Why were they stopping?  Confused he turned to the first of the wagons, his blue eyes narrowed.

"Hey there, Dancer! You lot are usually with a caravan of entertainers!" A man sitting on the spring seat of the wagon grinned down at him. "What's a single dancer like you wandering all alone like this?"

Dancer? Danny looked down at himself, noting the top and bottom he wore--he supposed he did look like what someone would call a Dancer. He hadn't really thought about what he was wearing at all: Did it really matter? Then again he had no idea what 'Dancer' meant. Something to do with entertainment, he thought, but--

"Sorry," Danny mumbled. "I--My group was attacked by bandits earlier. I've kind of been wandering since..."

 _Liar,_ hissed a voice in his ear, _how could you lie like this, Danny? Will you start breaking your promises now too?_

His eyebrow twitched slightly, trying to ignore the voice hissing in his ears. It sounded like a young girl--but it didn't matter. Not right now--besides, what promises could he break right now? He couldn't remember any promises after all.

The man let out a soft hiss. "I had heard there was some danger along this route recently. To think there were bandits... Do you need a lift, little Dancer?"

Danny bit the inside of his cheek. Walking would take longer--and the idea of sitting down would be nice considering the state his feet were in. "I...don't have any money," Danny mumbled, not meeting the man's eyes.

"Pffft." The man laughed, amused by his response. "Kid, don't worry about money. We're merchants--we make more than enough money with every trip. Besides, you've been leaving a blood trail, if you haven't noticed."

He looked back as the man pointed behind them. Lo and behold there was indeed some blood footprints leading across the road and the end of the trail was just behind him. Oh, he had left a trail, one created with his own blood and footprints. How did that even happen without him noticing? Sure, he knew he'd been bleeding but he hadn't realized that it had been that bad.

The man held out a hand, winking at him. "Come on. The next town is only a couple hours away--We'll get there before dark if you just come on board now."

Danny swallowed his hesitation and took the man's hand.

* * *

"Aaand, we lost another client." Tucker groaned as he leaned on his hands, pouting at the retreating back of their newest job attempt. It wasn't that they were bad or even that their track record was bad--they had an almost 0% failure rate, which was more than lots of other groups could say.

But they took one look at them, realized they were only 21, and jumped on the 'they can't actually be that experienced' train. Which was rude! He and Sam had been working as mercenaries since they first became adults 3 years prior--because they both had something they wanted to find.

Not that Sam had told him what she was looking for--That was one subject Tucker didn't push her on. She wanted to keep it to herself? Fine, as long as she never asked why he had decided to leave Amity with her.

"It's not the first client we've lost this evening," Sam grumbled, leaning on her hand. She did not look very happy right now, not that he could blame her. "I doubt it'll be our last. At this rate, we're going to start losing money and we'll never get to the next town."

Tucker sighed, leaning back in his chair. "We'd totally have more luck if we had a swordsman with us. But between an Apothecary and a Mage? Not much trust for us." It was somewhat frustrating for people to be so....dismissive of their skills just because they weren't the standard Fighter or Mercenary.

Sam hummed in agreement before she tilted her head up as something caught her attention. Tucker frowned and followed her gaze to the stage. There was a couple of Villagers with musical instruments and, in the center, was a Dancer in silver, white, and black. The dance was slow in the beginning, following the beat of the music, before it began to quicken.

The Dancer spun around and around, his feet flashing around the stage too fast for Tucker to track. It was strangely mesmerizing--Tucker didn't know of many Dancers who could pull off getting the full attention of a group like this.

'Alluring' crossed his mind before he realized what he thought and Tucker flushed, shaking his head sharply. What the heck? He supposed the word did fit but it was weird. It was as if the Dancer had some magic--magic that was being used in his dancing.

Tucker glanced at Sam as the dance began to slow to an end. He started at the expression on her face--It was her 'planning face'. Whenever she got that expression they always ended up in the middle of some mess or another. Usually ones that result in one of them almost dying.

"Sam." He hissed. "What are you thinking?"

She turned and smirked at him. "Oh, I was just thinking...We could perhaps recruit someone else for other types of work."

He stared. She really wanted to drag this poor Dancer--or someone else, considering a Dancer of that skill was probably a part of a troupe already--into their mercenary band. His skepticism likely showed on his face as she frowned at him.

"Do you want to be stuck in this town, forever trying to pay back people we owe money to? Or do you want to actually move on to the next town?" She snapped as the usual entertainment for the bar picked up from the end of the Dancer's performance.

Tucker grimaced and looked down at the water clasped in his hands. Of course, he didn't want to stay in Emerton forever--no one wanted to stay in this tiny town forever. But did they really want to drag someone innocent into their messes? He looked up as Sam stood.

She dead eye stared at him. "I'm going to find out which troupe that guy is a part of and see if he wants to have a little more free reign in where he goes." The Mage turned from the table and strode through the patrons with a purpose: Tucker stared after her before he swallowed his hesitation.

Sam was right, even if he didn't like it. They had to bite the bullet, as it were. Tucker supposed there was no harm in trying but he doubted someone in a troupe was likely to just give that up for a couple of mercenaries.

He followed in Sam's trail, leaving his empty glass on their table. It didn't take long to find her: She had ducked into a hall and was standing there, peering into a room with her back to him. Tucker raised an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses before sliding up behind her.

"What's up?" He whispered and Sam nearly jump backed up right into him. "Wow, okay. No need to run me over just because you aren't paying attention..."

She elbowed him before she nodded to the door, hissing; "Just listen."

Tucker frowned but leaned in close, listening to the conversation in the other room as closely as he could without actually touching Sam: He remembered what happened to the last person who touched her without her permission.

A voice, one he recognized to be the bar owner's, drifted out of the room and into the hall. "Are you sure you don't want a little more? I've gotten more people in this since you showed up last week than I've had in months. Hell, I have enough now to build that add on I've always wanted, for an Inn. I can pay for your trip to--where was it you wanted to go?"

"I don't really have a plan." A second voice piped, clearly younger than the first. It was weirdly nice to listen to and Tucker wrinkled his nose. Did he really just think that? Ugh. "But even this much is more than enough with my savings--I'll be fine. And as much as I'd like to stay for a couple more weeks..."

The bar owner sighed. "Yeah, I gotcha. Still though, if you're ever in town again, troupe or no, know you've got a job here, alright Danny?"

'Danny' laughed. "Yeah, thanks. And also thanks for letting me work for the past week--It really helped."

There were a few more words exchanged--more assurances of jobs and assurances that everything was fine--and it hit Tucker. Sam may not have known that 'Danny' wasn't in a troupe but this made the chance to get him to join them a little easier.

Granted, there was still the chance that he wouldn't want to have anything to do with mercenaries.

Ah well, Tucker would just roll with whatever ended up happening. That was the best way to deal with Sam's plans.

Speaking of Sam, she grabbed his arm and began pulling him back down the hall so that it looked like they had only just arrived. She grinned as Danny stepped out of the room, followed by the barkeep. The two duos stared at each other for almost a full minute before Sam seemed to catch her voice.

Dark hair and blue eyes--Though it wasn't pure dark hair either. The roots of his hair were a snowy white, a sign of magic. Obvious when you consider how mesmerizing the dances were--magic had to be involved somehow.

(He is not in denial, thank you very much.)

But more important was that like his hair, there was a hint of another color in those blue eyes--but Tucker chose that moment to break his gaze from the other man's. He didn't exactly what him to think that he'd been staring.

"Hello!" Sam waved, uncharacteristically cheerful. "We wanted to talk with the Dancer that performed just now. I supposed you could say we have an offer for him?"

The Dancer--Danny--tilted his head in confusion. "Do you mean me?"

Sam nodded. Her cheer was making Tucker nervous--She was never that happy. It was a sign that someone was going to get blown up or something was going to get set on fire.

Danny did not sense the impending doom for them all. "I guess I can. I'll see you some other time, Dean?" The barkeep nodded and waved goodbye as he disappeared down the hall away from the trio.

 _We're doomed_ , Tucker thought.

* * *

Sam was still surprised that Danny had agreed to join their group.

It actually hadn't taken long to convince Danny to join them. All Sam had had to say was 'hey, all the money you earn will be yours just as long as you help us out on our jobs'. Even after explaining to him that those jobs meant fighting--he hadn't minded.

They still had no idea what type of weapons he could be good at. Dancers tended to use short swords--or at least all the dancers Sam had seen fighting did. Danny hadn't told them what he could just yet and she was worried about that.

And yet.

There was something oddly refreshing to having Danny around. Like something that had been missing was suddenly back and they could function again. It was weird though because why would Danny be the missing piece?

Granted, he...looked a lot like someone she used to know. Heck, he even had the same nickname! But that person had been gone for eleven years. Sam knew that if he was okay, they would've found him by now. But they hadn't so he must be--

She swallowed the thought.

Her goals might not be to find someone she was sure was dead, but she was going to find the people who did it--and ensure they couldn't do it to anyone else.

That goal would be a lot easier if, A, she could talk to Tucker about it and, b, if they weren't about to be murdered by bandits halfway to Lactu. She probably shouldn't have gotten distracted by her thoughts about Danny's choice of weapon, Sam mused as fire blistered from her fingertips.

Maybe they wouldn't have snuck up on them.

Either way, pondering on whether or no her thoughts had let some bandits(?? They were oddly in sync for a group of bandits--too disciplined) sneak up on them would only make the situation worse. So burn it all down was Sam's very serious decision.

Tucker wailed from next to her as he let an arrow fly. "I knew it!! We're doomed!!"

 _Wow, what a pessimist_ , Sam thought. Then frowned. Wasn't she supposed to be the pessimist? Oh well, she'd file that under 'things to think about later'. "We're not doomed just yet, Tucker!" She shot back.

"Yeah?? Well, this looks like doomed to me!!" Tucker yelped back. He paused. "Wait, where did Danny go?"

Sam, about to retort that 'no, we're not doomed we can handle this', paused and glanced around. Danny, who had previously been nestled between them, had vanished. She peered over the edge of their cover, searching for the crazy Dancer when she saw him--kneeling by a downed bandit.

She hissed. "What is he doing?" And why hadn't the bandits noticed him yet?

As she thought that, Danny backed up closer to a bandit, clutching something in his hands. It seemed he got too close as the bandit, previously unaware that he was there, did a double take before grabbing his sword and lashing out at Danny.

Shit.

Gathering fire in her hand, she got ready to shoot it out, even if she couldn't reach him. But she didn't need to bother--as Danny spun with a splish and splash of the bandit's blood.

Oh. Those were daggers he had--that he'd taken off that bandit. At least it was good to know that he could actually fight: It meant they didn't have to worry too much about having to watch his back.

Sam let the fire loose on another bandit nearing her. Right, it didn't matter. Danny can take care of himself--which was for the best, really--and so could they. It wouldn't take long at all to take these bandits out, especially with how Danny could somehow get the drop on them despite running straight at them.

Hell, Sam was pretty sure Danny could run yelling at them and they wouldn't notice until he was a couple feet in front of them.

...Morons.

But either way, Sam blamed that weird ability for why they became complacent with the last few bandits. Complacent enough that Sam was almost skewered on an axe. Later, she'd be thankful for that not happening--but it was a bit hard to be thankful in the moment when there's suddenly a twenty foot tall black and white dragon snapping its jaws around the bandit in question.

One of the bandits yelled--something like 'it's him!', which she would foolishly forget later on--and the remaining bandits banded together to attack the sleek dragon that had just saved Sam's life.

And while Sam was a bit busy trying to come to terms with that, Tucker was busy wigging out and shooting the bandits. Something he had seen that she hadn't was enough that he wasn't attacking the dragon--who was spilling blue flames on the bandits, roaring as it did so.

That was enough evidence for Sam that, just for this, she won't try to burn a crazed dragon.

(It didn't occur to her that this dragon wasn't crazed: it was too commonplace in the current era for dragons to have lost their minds. In fact, every dragon to be found in the past centuries had gone mad. So it was fair of her not to realize this dragon was only mad--not insane.)

Sam unleashed her fire, letting it curl and warp into the flames the dragon spat. She watched as it whirled, claws flashing, and the last of the bandits fell. Sam's hand clenched tightly on the spine of her tome: Was this when the dragon turned on them?

Tucker slipped past her, both of his hands raised, his bow stowed away. She bit back a warning as the dragon tilled, its' snout leaning close to Tucker. Damn it, if that thing decided it wanted to eat Tucker, there was no way she would be able to move fast enough to stop it...

Her friend and partner gently laid his hands on the beast's snout, murmuring something soft. The dragon's tension seemed to fade and it was only when it was fully relaxed did Sam realize it had been tense at all.

Then it flashed with a brilliant light and Sam straightened, her hands ready to burn, as it shrunk and then--

\--Danny was slumped in Tucker's arms, looking tired and just as confused as Sam felt. Did Danny just...become a dragon? And then stop being a dragon? She felt like she knew what that was, what it should be, but. Sam swallowed the thought.

It'll just have to be filed with the rest of her 'things to think about later'. For now? She'd help Tucker calm down Danny before he freaked and became a dragon again.

And maybe she'd figure out why he'd become one in the first place.

* * *

**Name** : Danny

 **Age** : 21(??)

 **Class** : Dancer/Manakette. Can upgrade to special Bard class at Level 15. Can class change to Mercenary or Fighter.

 **Special Ability** : Phantom. Allows him to remain undetected by enemy units until he reaches within 2 squares of them.

 **Other Abilities** : Odd Rhythm, Learned at Level 5. Luck+4, Learned at Level 10. Wyrmsbane, Learned at Level 15, only active when Danny is in dragon form. Special Dance, Learned at Level 20.

Danny is an Amnesiac Dancer who is recruited into the Phantom Mercenaries (named after Danny joins by Tucker). He doesn't know anything about his past besides the fact that there's someone he knows he's meant to help. It's just trying to remember who that someone is and where they are that's the problem.

He's somewhat naive and cocky--which bites him in the butt often. He's usually the most injured after fights, due to his tendency to jump into attacks without thinking or forgetting to dodge, much to every healer's horror. He also has a temper that rears its head when someone he cares about is hurt.

That usually results in fire being spewed by an angry dragon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta`d

Danny didn't know what to make of this two new 'partners.'

Tucker was good company--cheery and tendency to joke around. The only problem was that he asked more questions about Danny's Dragon problem than Danny could answer. Hells, Danny couldn't answer any of those questions, because he didn't know anything about it. All he knew was that he felt that the dragon thing wasn't something he grew up with. Not that that helped any: He couldn't remember his childhood so he still didn't have an answers.

Sam, on the other hand, seemed to take the whole Dragon thing in stride. That was likely what put Danny off about her--for all her surly nature towards totally strangers and her stubborn determination, she was normally...pleasant. But not in a fake way.

He didn't know why that was important, but he shrugged it off.

Perhaps most important was that he knew of the two he now worked with. Their reputation proceeded them in that they were known as the mercenaries would take almost any job--and would make it through with very little personal injury. Danny had heard of them and had thought them amazing and terrifying in one swing--and now he was technically one of them.

That thought was far more daunting than one would think it would be.

It had something to do with the fact that besides those facts he knew nothing about the duo as mercenaries--sure, they might take any job without getting too badly hurt, but what did that mean of their work ethic? For all Danny knew, he was a job they were working on on the side and just weren't telling him about it.

The thought made him grimace: For all his wariness, he actually wanted to trust these two. It was a strange feeling. People tended to, in the past couple months since he woke up in a forest surrounded by corpses, had to work for his trust. The fact that he not only wanted to trust these two but also felt compelled to? It was weird, in a single word.

Either way, it did mean he made it to more towns that he used to. Before he had only made it to two towns in a couple months--in less than a week of joining Sam and Tucker, he'd been to two more.

One day, on a trip to a small village on the route to Amity Park, Tucker spoke up. "You know, we don't actually have a name yet. Now that we're three people instead of two--maybe we should get one?"

"By name, do you mean something to call us?" Danny asked, wrinkling his nose. "Because if you want to make a name for yourself, there's no need to. People definitely know about you--even if it isn't much."

That had startled Sam into the conversation, with her snapping her book shut. "What do you mean they know us? We've been trying to keep ourselves on the down low..."

Danny tilted his head at them, surprised. Hadn't they known their own reputation? Unless, of course, they had and just never realized that it was them that people were talking about. That thought made him smile a bit--to think, that these two wouldn't even realize...but he shook it off.

"The two mercenaries who take almost any job and get out of them with very little injury: Who else would it be?"

Sam and Tucker had both blinked owlishly at him before Sam had huffed and said that she was going back to her book. Tucker complained that they still hadn't picked a name yet. Danny just smiled, because being with them just felt natural now.

A couple days later, before they arrived at the tiny village that would change their course, Danny practiced with his daggers trying desperately to translate dance moves to blade. It has hard: Daggers had a weight to them his rings did not and he had to make up for it with weight in his swings that his rings would never have in his dances. It was harder still to not have a proper target to practice on besides the air.

And then Sam stepped in, her hands raised. "It'd be easier if you held the daggers differently, you know." She informed him primly, in the way only Sam could. The way that meant 'I know what I'm talking about, I've done it before'. Sam only used that tone for the most dire or serious of things, Danny had quickly learned, and it was serious now because if he messed up he'd die. And he really didn't want to die.

So he let Sam lead him through the steps of proper grip, helped him translate the moves. She sparred with him with sticks. They weren't the same--but they were better than nothing at all and this way neither of them would get injuries Tucker would have to tut over as he patched them up with his herbs and bandages.

As it turned out, it was a good thing that Danny learned from Sam.  If he hadn't, well. Their fates and lives may have been cut far too short.

Then again, their future may not be the brightest anyway. It's hard to see it as bright, when all you can see is darkness for decades.

* * *

Valerie tugged on her hair as she eyeballed the field. She was sure she had finished watering all of the crops. Maybe something had been missed...? Damn her anxiety but she knew that if she didn't make sure it was all watered they might not have enough crops for harvest. That was the only source of income her family had.

Sighing she made her decision to check over the crops one more time. As she was doing so, she heard something echo from the town proper. Valerie frown to herself, pushing the loose stands of her hair from her face. What in the world was that?

And then she spotted the smoke, as she stared towards the village. No... her mother was out there! Jolting from her frozen spot she tore down the main road to the village, yelling for her mother.

(She might be an adult now, but she couldn't just leave when her parents couldn't afford to hire any farm hands. Not yet, anyway.)

Valerie felt like she ran for a century before she made it to the burning village--which stank of death. She clasped her hands over her mouth and nose, kneeling down to avoid the smoke proper and to stop the scent of death.

Where was everyone? She couldn't see anything except mounds of something flopped across the ground. And then something moved through the smoke towards the mounds and jabbed them sharply with--was that a sword?

Oh no. Valerie ducked further down against a wrecked wagon, peering towards the moving... object? Person? It looked like it could be a person, armor and all, but she didn't recognize the style. Valerie suddenly wished she'd paid more attention when her uncle had been teaching her about blacksmithing.

If only she remembered those lessons, of the different armor styles other countries favored. But it was too late for regrets and guilt. She had to find her mother.

Of course, Valerie mused, she wasn't sure if finding her mother was going to be an option. Mostly because of the armored soldier now gripped her upper arm. They held their sword, pointed to thrust it's blade into her gut--and then they fell, an arrow sticking out of the back of their neck.

Valerie froze, slumping down in front of the man in shock. Someone else had their hand on her arm, gentle instead of the strong grip of the soldier. "Hey." A voice muttered in her ear, low and soft. "We need to get you out of here, okay? This is no place for someone like you--"

"Probably not for you either, Danny. You haven't mastered our daggers yet." A woman's voice spoke up and a woman decked in black and purple robes knelt in front of her. "But like Danny said, we need you to get out of our way--"

"No."

It took a moment for Valerie to realize that she had spoken. Flushing, Valerie looked the other woman in the eye, ignoring the dancer at her side. "I might not know a lot about fighting but I can do this much at least for everyone in the village."

_Everyone still alive._

Valerie knelt and grabbed the sword the dead soldier had dropped at their death. "I-I'll fight. I'll fight for my home." She stared the woman in the eye until she sighed in exasperation.

"Fine! Tucker, back up Valerie--Danny, I'll stick with you." The woman grabbed the dancer--Danny--and disappeared into the wavering smoke. An apothecary appeared, carrying a bow. He grinned at Valerie and saluted with his bow.

She swallowed and nodded back, turning to eye the village streets. She might not be a fighter, or at least a good one, but she knows this village better than the soldiers that might still be in these streets.

As Valerie led Tucker--or so she assumed that was who he was--she spotted many people that she knew. But all of them were dead, as far as Valerie could tell. Tucker stopped here and there to check them, as if hoping that they weren't. He always seemed disappointed, however.

Valerie tried not to look at any of them. She couldn't bear it if any of them were her mother.

But here's the thing: They focused far too much on the people laying in the streets. They should've paid more attention to the roof tops.

They were ever so lucky however, as when they defended themselves from the two soldiers trying to hack them to pieces, a third player entered the scene. And it was not one of the other two.

A wolf had pounced, large with dark green fur. It tore apart one of the soldiers and Valerie and Tucker took the other one. Once the fight stopped the duo stared down the wolf, ready to fight it too if they had to. But that was assuming that they could actually beat it, which considering the fate of the soldier...

Then the wolf changed before their eyes. A human stood before them, a head of hair that was the same color as the fur of the massive wolf that had been there mere moments before.

"Hello!" The...human (?) chirped and Tucker fire an arrow past its face. It yelped. "Hey, hey! What was that for?! I just saved you!"

Valerie hardened her resolve. "Yeah? Well what the heck are you?"

It--he?--pouted. "I'm Cujo! That's all I am." That did not answer Valerie's question. She scowled and said as much. His pout grew deeper. "Aw, mean! But I could smell the nice dancer on you so I thought I'd help you for him--"

That seemed to get Tucker's attention, as he stepped forward to push Valerie back. "By Dancer, so you mean a guy with black and silver hair?" 'Cujo' nodded quite a bit, looking eager. "Right okay--Does he know you're here?"

Now Cujo seemed guilty. "Oh! Um...he just thinks I'm a wolf I think. I was hurt and he saved me and got me food and--"

Tucker motioned for him to stop and the apothecary groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. You know what? Just stick with us. We're going to meet up with Danny and Sam and--Danny is the dancer you're looking for, okay?"

Cujo happily nodded, no longer looking guilty. Jeez, Valerie thought, he was as mood flipping as an actual puppy.

Their group now three, Valerie eyed them both distrustfully. She could accept the three who had saved her, before this strange... Cujo had appeared. Now, as they approached village center and whatever may remain of the soldiers, Valerie was almost sure these four had ties to them.

They had to, right?

Valerie's grip was tense on the sword, her swings shaky as she attacked the handful of soldiers then ran into along their route in small bursts. Tucker's aim was precise and dangerous: He had experience in aiming for the fatal spots.

And then there was Cujo. He sent some of the soldiers running at the mere sight of him. Others stayed to try and fight back and were only killed in vain.

It didn't take as long to cut through to the village square then it would've had they not had Cujo, however. They even beat Danny and the mage woman there--thought only be a few minutes. When they did arrive, Valerie stared.

Why was her father there?

Damon Grey gave them all a weak wave, looking tired and smelling of smoke. "Hello, dear."

Valerie choked. "Dad! What are you doing here?! You should've stayed at the farm--!"

That seemed to make him angry. "And leave you and your mother here in this chaos? And don't say I shouldn't've known you were here: You weren't in the fields and as soon as I saw the smoke I knew where you went."

She lost the breath in her chest for all of a few seconds. Maybe if she had stayed, her father would've too--but neither of them would've wanted to stay behind as her mother and his wife was still in the village.

"Where's mom?" Valerie demanded there, the thought reminding her of her mother. "I haven't seen her--"

Danny and the mage exchanged looked: Danny's was tired and sad and the mage's just resigned. Damon in turn looked as if he was grieving. "Valerie...She's...I saw her. Down the street..."

No.

Tucker reached for her shoulder, trying to stop her. She shrugged him off and took off towards the street her father had gestured to. Valerie jumped over the corpses of the other villagers and soldiers and saw her as she stopped at the end of the street.

Her mother, slumped against a wall with her stomach colored a deep crimson. It was already darkening from drying and Valerie crumbled to her knees. This had to be a bad dream....what did their village ever do to deserve this?

Damon fell down to his knees next to her, to wrap her in his arms in a tight hug. "It'll be okay, Valerie," He said, "I have...your uncle had a place we can stay at until we can fix this--"

Her uncle, the blacksmith. All the way in Amity Park, so far away from them it seemed like he was on the other side of the world. "We can't." Valerie muttered. "We have...to bury everyone..."

He clutched her so tightly now, that she felt like Damon had never not been hugging her. "Oh, honey...I want to. But...we can't. You know the customs. If you can't bury them in the waves of earth then..."

"...then let the fires of earth release them. I know." Her voice shook. "I know."

Damon kissed her forehead. "I've...already spoken to the mercenaries. They said they'll escort us there, free of charge."

"Okay." Valerie whispered. "To Amity Park then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ofc people are gonna die. This is a crossover with fire emblem: people die aaaall the time in those games

**Author's Note:**

> slams my head on the keyboard to make words.
> 
> anyway yeah dp/fe crossover because i have literally seen no one else do it so i'm gonna, fight me. the danny is a dancer thing is sort of inspired by a post i saw about that space au, which....i'd link if i could find it again : \\\\\\\
> 
> each chapter is gonna have the little character thing at the bottom, just so everyone is aware. part of it is for me to remember stuff and part of it is for you--so yeah.


End file.
